Not Your Fault
by MooBerg
Summary: "Mike, you were just hit by a car and walked away with nothing more than a couple broken ribs. You should be elated, not angry." "You wouldn't get it." Mike said, turning to Harvey once again. "Try me."


Hi Guys! First Suits fic so go easy on me! Hope you enjoy!

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Mike let the cool water run down his face, hoping it would wipe away memories from years ago, and hours, too. It had all happened so fast, and instantly pulled him into the darkest recesses of his memories. He closed his eyes and was there again.

_Metal on metal._

_Before that it was silence. Happy silence cut only by the quiet buzz of the radio. Mike was engrossed in Macbeth, and never saw it coming. Apparently neither did his mother. She's insisted on driving home, but that sort of made sense. She hadn't touched the bottle in three years, but her husband had. Not more than one though (let's not degrade his memory), just enough to make it safer for her to drive. It was this, the worry she had for her husband, along with the motherly glances in the rear-view mirror (it was far past Mike's bedtime) that made her unaware._

_Metal on metal._

_Mike was late. Of course he was late, all-nighters followed up with an hour of sleep heavy enough to make you sleep through your alarm will let that happen. Thankfully Harvey had no patience, especially when it came to Mike, so when Mike reached the five minute line, he called._

_"__Where the hell are you?"_

_"__Almost there."_

_"__You overslept, didn't you?"_

_"__What? No."_

_"__You're a terrible liar. Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?"_

_"__I'll be there as soon as possible."_

_"__You haven't left yet?"_

_"__No."_

_The dial tone is a harsh way to end a conversation, but a very Harvey way as well. Mike was dressed and out the door in record time, using every shortcut he usually avoided to keep that record going. He should have seen what was about to happen, and he probably did, but his big brain was too focused on Harvey to make any calculations. He'd cut through an intersection. It was completely empty somehow, and it wasn't entirely unheard of for him, but this crossroad wasn't quite as empty as he thought. _

"Mike! Mike, what the hell are you doing?"

_Tires on concrete._

_The other car tried to stop, tried to prevent something that would change all their lives, but he couldn't. His skid unintentionally brought him right to them. Mike happened to look up then. The car was three feet away, heading straight for his mom. Over the squeal of tires he tried to call to her, but his voice was stolen away as his body flew back into the seat._

_Tires on concrete._

_Mike looked to his left as he hit the intersection, a habit he'd picked up, and his heart wasn't sure if it should go up or down. He tried to pedal faster, having the presence of mind to know that was the smart decision, but his tire lost traction with the greater speed. It skipped on the concrete like a truck tire stuck in the mud. A loud screech pulled his head left once more. The taxi was trying, and failing as well, to stop; it's balded tires doing nothing on the concrete. All Mike could do was watch as it came closer, watch his greatest fear come true._

"Mike, don't be an idiot. Listen to me!"

_Glass on skin._

_The car windows exploded on impact. Mike had a brief moment to wonder how those small windows could create such a cacophony of glitter before he shut his eyes against them. They never opened again, he was too afraid. He didn't want the glass to get in his eyes, he still had to finish Macbeth, after all. But more important, he didn't want to see what was in front of him. There was a deafening silence. No more tires, no more radio, and no more breath. His parents weren't breathing. He wasn't an idiot, he knew what that meant. But he wasn't a hero, he had no clue what to do. Instead he pressed his hands against his eyes, wiping glass away in the process, and waited for his breath to stop, too._

_Glass on skin._

_The bumper his his front tire, pushing his bike back, and shooting him forward. He slid up the hood, slammed against the windshield, and clattered limply back to the ground. Glass already littered the concrete from the taxi's other windows, and as he hit the ground it dug into his hands. The momentum in his body pushed him off his hands, onto his side, and the glass easily cut through his suit. A little further, onto his back, and everything went white after that._

"Mike, please. Just talk to me."

"I don't want to talk about it." Mike snapped.

"Then at least open this door before I kick it down."

Mike turned and swung the door open hard, glaring at Harvey as his face came into view. "Happy?" He asked, turning back to the sink.

"What's gotten into you?" Harvey asked at the sharpness of Mike's voice.

Mike gave a short laugh. "Didn't think you were that oblivious."

"Mike, you were just hit by a car and walked away with nothing more than a couple broken ribs. You should be elated, not angry."

"You wouldn't get it." Mike said, turning to Harvey once again.

"Try me." Harvey paused. "But maybe lie down again first."

"I'm fine." Mike insisted.

"No, you're not." Harvey took him by the elbow and led him back to the hospital bed. "Why the hell did you get out of bed anyway?"

"I think I'm allowed to freak out a little." Mike slid on top of the sheets, wincing as he did so, and remained sitting.

"Why were you freaking out?" Harvey asked, his voice taking on a soft tone he never thought he'd use with his associate. He sat in the chair beside the bed, an unwanted concern overtaking him.

"Because this isn't the first car crash I've caused." Mike said.

"What?" Harvey asked intelligently. "Mike, you didn't cause anything."

"Don't lie, Harvey, it doesn't suit you." Mike shot back.

"Mike, I'm serious, it wasn't-"

"Were you there?" Mike cut in. "Harvey, were you there the day my parents died? I don't remember you sitting next to me. Did you see what happened?" At Harvey's silence, Mike continued. "I didn't think so." Mike's voice became distant, and Harvey braced himself for a brutal trip down memory lane. "Mom was worried about me. I used to have this thing with going to bed at a certain time, any later and things wouldn't be good. She kept looking at me, sometimes turning around, sometimes using the mirror, it didn't matter. Either way I was distracting her, and I was the reason she didn't see the car coming."

"Do you really believe that-"

"And then today." Mike interrupted again. "I was so preoccupied with getting to work I cut through that intersection. If I'd just waited for the light to turn-"

"The light was red." Harvey said.

"What?"

"The light was red, Mike." Harvey stood. "That taxi didn't have any right to be heading through that intersection. It wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"And as for the crash that killed your parents, I looked into that accident. The other driver was drunk. Even if your mom was completely focused on the road, you still would have been hit." Harvey tried to look into Mike's downcast eyes. "Mike, look at me. It wasn't your fault."

Mike had tears threatening to fall from his eyes. "It wasn't...?"

"It wasn't your fault." Harvey repeated, hoping it would stick.

"But what about-"

"Mike, listen to me. Think back. Can you honestly tell me it was all your fault?"

_Metal on metal, tires on concrete, glass on skin._

_"__Mike..." His mother called. Mike wondered how she was speaking now, wasn't she... He still couldn't look. "Mike, sweetie, I'm so sorry. This shouldn't have happened. It's all my fault. But everything's going to be alright, I promise. Everything's..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't say anything after that._

_"__Oh my god, hey kid, are you alright? I'm so sorry, please be alright. Kid?"_

_Metal on metal, tires on concrete, glass on skin._

_Everything went white, but he could still hear. "Somebody call an ambulance! Please! Hey, buddy, are you okay? Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have run that red. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."_

Mike gasped as his mind came back to reality. He hadn't remembered those parts before, and if it hadn't been for Harvey, he never would have.

"You still with me, kid?" Harvey asked. Mike looked at him, the tears in his eyes finally falling, but in relief, not despair.

"Thanks, Harvey." Mike said, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you so much."

"Easy, kid, you've still got a few broken ribs, I don't think hugging is on the table yet." Harvey returned the hug anyway. "But you're welcome."

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I said go easy, I didn't say do not review ;)


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